


The City That Never Sleeps

by devra



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 21:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devra/pseuds/devra
Summary: Like the Big Apple, Atlantis was the city that never slept though at oh three hundred hours, while the coffee pots were full and the food service trays consisted of cellophane wrapped sandwiches, cookies and fruit, Rodney was the only person occupying the room.





	The City That Never Sleeps

Sheppard touched his headset. “Carson?”

“Please tell me you— “the voice was tight with anxiety, the brogue heavier. Carson had two presets, concerned and anxious, but this was even more anxious than usual. Hell, he couldn’t blame the good doctor. Rodney and Radek had been injured two days ago in a lab accident, for which according to Rodney (the second he regained consciousness) the blame fell squarely on Kavanagh’s shoulders. 

John, because he wasn’t that stupid, chose not to impart to the Doc the information of the discarded IV pole with the dangling tubing or the droplets of fluids and blood that led him to their errant, injured, drugged to the gills, genius (although at this moment Rodney’s IQ was up for debate). “Found him.”

“Oh, thank god.” Carson’s relief was palpable. “I have a good mind to—“ 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle Rodney.”

“Aye, Colonel, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I’m offended,” he whispered as he drew closer to where Rodney was sitting. “I promise to return Rodney in one piece and no more damaged than he was when he was a guest in your infirmary.” Sheppard clicked off the radio before Carson had a chance to force him to make good on his promise. 

Like the Big Apple, Atlantis was the city that never slept though at oh three hundred hours, while the coffee pots were full and the food service trays consisted of cellophane wrapped sandwiches, cookies and fruit, Rodney was the only person occupying the room.

In one swift movement, John swung the chair opposite his teammate around, straddling the seat. “Hey, McKay. Lost?” 

The fact Rodney’s left arm was wrapped around his middle, cushioning broken ribs was testament that Rodney wasn’t as drugged as Sheppard had thought and that Carson’s happy juice had only taken the edge off his pain. “Very funny. I know exactly--“

“Carson doesn’t—“ 

“Didn’t,” Rodney corrected. “Didn’t, I’m sure you told him.”

John plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the table and pressed it into the crook of Rodney’s arm, swiping away the evidence of the disconnected IV. “He was worried.” 

Rodney offered up a one shoulder, ‘I don’t give a shit’ non-committal shrug before whining, tugging his arm from John’s ministrations. “Ow. That hurts.”

John balled up the blood spotted napkin, snagged another and cleaned up the table. “It’s your own fault. Who told you to unplug your IV?”

“Couldn’t get it up the steps. No ramps. So I left it. Stupid Ancients.” 

“Stupid Ancients,” John repeated. Not stupid Rodney whose ass should be glued to the infirmary bed. 

“And Carson also,” he added smugly. “This could’ve all been avoided if he would’ve let me have coffee. One cup. That’s all I wanted. It’s okay to pump me full of drugs—“ Rodney took a breath, grimaced, “but he wouldn’t let me have caffeine.” 

“Rodney,”’ John said looking over his shoulder taking in the full coffee pots, before turning his curiosity back to the unhappy man sitting across from him, “do you need me to play waiter and get you coffee?” 

“No.” The expression on his face reflected how stupid he thought John’s question. “Not that coffee.”

John leaned into Rodney’s space. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t a Starbucks in the Pegasus Galaxy,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

Rodney rolled his eyes, then shifted in his chair, biting back a low groan. 

John reached for his headset.

“No. Please.” 

Against his better judgment, John lowered his hand. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t be dragging your ass back to Carson.”

“Selynda,” Rodney said with a sigh.

“Cylinder?” Maybe the doc was wrong. Maybe Rodney had some sort of brain injury. He had lost consciousness—

“What?” Rodney sputtered. 

“You said cylinder.”

“No, I said Selynda.” He broke the word into three syllables as if John was an idiot. “See. Lin. Da.”

John figured he might as well join the crazy people running the asylum. “Okay. Who or what is—“

“It’s a person. A she person.”

“A she person?” John reiterated with a tilt of his head. 

“You know what I mean, stop being difficult.”

“Me? I’m being difficult? I wasn’t the one who—“ John stopped. “Rodney?” Rodney’s gaze appeared to be fixated at a point over John’s right shoulder. John shifted and followed Rodney’s line of vision. “Who?”

“Don’t you pay attention when I speak?” Rodney waved his arm “Never mind—that’s Selynda.” Her name was said with a reverence usually reserved for Samantha Carter. 

Admittedly, in her younger days, Selynda must’ve been quite a looker; now in what John guesstimated as being in her fifties or a well preserved sixty or so, she was petite and carried herself regally. “Athosian?” 

Rodney nodded. “She comes three times a week from the mainland to help in the kitchen, breakfast prep—“ He turned his attention back to John “Didn’t you ever notice on certain days the quality of breakfast foods increases exponentially?”

“Maybe.” Not that John would ever admit that he never noticed, what he did notice was that Selynda walked right by him without a second glance. 

“Dr. Rodney.” 

Rodney leaned into the weathered hand that cupped his cheek and didn’t shy away or stiffen when her forehead touched his, like he did to Teyla even after all these years. 

She tapped his cheek before straightening. “Doctor Carson allowed you to leave?”

“No,” John answered before Rodney even opened his mouth. The glare he received from Rodney warned him if he didn’t keep his thoughts to himself he’d be sleeping on the couch now and probably for all eternity. 

Rodney hung his head and answered softly with the slightest hint of indignation tempered with disbelief. “Carson said I couldn’t have coffee.” 

John bit his tongue, literally. 

“Doctor Carson is a wise man.” Finally, Selynda turned her attention to John. “Colonel John is wise also-“

Rodney snorted. 

The expression on Selynda’s face silenced Rodney and John wondered what powers this woman actually possessed. No breakfast foods in any universe, no matter how delicious, should’ve been able to put Rodney in his place. John sat back to enjoy the entertainment 

“If I allow you—“

“Yes,” Rodney interrupted.

“You did not allow me to finish, Dr. Rodney. “

Abashed, Rodney hung his head. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Manners,” she said with the conviction that she’d had this conversation with the man more than once. 

He sighed.

John sat mesmerized wishing he had some type of recording device on his person because no one would believe this. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he believed it. 

Gently, she touched a bruise darkening Rodney’s forehead. “One cup and then you will go back to Doctor Carson with no complaint.”

“Yes, he will,” John answered, against his better judgment. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

Sgasgasgasga

John waited until Selynda was out of earshot before the interrogation began. “Care to explain?” 

“She told me I reminded her of her brother, who was lost during a culling. I bring her chocolate, she gives me coffee.”

“And?” For Rodney to part with even an iota of chocolate, this coffee must be the nectar of the gods. 

“And, what? Late nights in the lab. Food run. We started to talk. She’s a goldmine of gossip—did you know that Doctor Barrows—“

“Who?”

“Doctor Barrows, the blonde with the big glasses in archeology—“ Rodney shifted positions, grimaced and screwed his eyes shut. “Ow,” the word came out on a soft exhalation. 

John grabbed Rodney’s hand, squeezing. “Are you sure?” 

Rodney gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

“Carson’s gonna kill you, then murder me.”

Rodney slid his hand from John’s grasp. “Get back to me after you taste the coffee.”

“You’re going to share?”

Rodney’s bark of laughter echoed in the empty commissary. “As if. She’ll bring you a cup. I’m not allowed to drink alone.”

Sgasgasgasga

“Don’t forget your promise to me,” Selynda said as she placed two mugs of coffee in front of them.

“I won’t,” John and Rodney answered simultaneously. 

“As revenge, I will make sure to spit in Kavanagh’s juice when he comes for breakfast,” she said with a wink. 

“Just don’t let anyone see you,” John warned, breathing deeply of the coffee fumes wafting in his direction. 

“See, that is why I love Selynda,” Rodney said, “she’s not above revenge. I love that in a woman. “

“No, do not lie. You love me for my coffee and muffins.” Once again, she touched foreheads with Rodney and once again he appeared to welcome her contact. This time, she offered the same gesture to John. “Take care of Doctor Rodney,” she whispered. 

“I try,” John replied in a hushed tone. “Though there are times he doesn’t make it easy. “

Sgasgasgasga

John didn’t take his first sip until Selynda disappeared towards the kitchen but after he did (and it was an effort not to keen’ ohgodohgod’), John stole a glance over the rim of the mug, waiting for a sarcastic ‘I told you so’ from Rodney, but the man’s face was turned heavenward with an expression of pure orgasmic bliss. The sorta look he got when John used his tongue –“Rodney?”

“Hmmmm,” Rodney hummed. 

John raised the mug to lips again, inhaling the fragrance, hesitating before speaking allowing the caffeine to coat his pallet. “Do you think Selynda would marry me if I asked?” 

“No, I already asked her to marry me, but she’s married.” Rodney raised the mug to his lips, then lowered it without taking a drink. “Quiet. This is meant to be savored, not discussed.”

Sgasgasgasga

Surprisingly, John finished before Rodney, but then again he didn’t have the threat of the infirmary hanging over his head. John drained the already empty mug for the third time and sat in patient silence for about five minutes. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable.”

“Do you think maybe she’ll feel badly for me and give me another—“

“Really?”

“No, I guess not.” With great reverence, Rodney placed his mug on the table next to John’s.

The first rays of dawn were breaking through the windows, prompting John to yawn. “Let’s go,” he said standing, offering Rodney a hand. “Carson’s probably got your bed all turned down, with nice fresh sheets—“

Rodney accepted the proffered assistance and shuffled like an old man next to John who slowed his pace to match Rodney’s. 

“Should we bring the IV pole?” John asked as they passed it in the hallway. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Rodney conceded. “Carson doesn’t like when we lose his stuff.”

“Speak for yourself, I’ve never lost—“ 

“No? How about the crutches, and yes I meant plural—“

“Alright,” John answered, tightening his grip on Rodney’s arm when he faltered, “you’ve made your point.” With his free hand, he gripped the IV apparatus, rolling it along with them. 

Before they entered the infirmary, Rodney drew up short and both John and the IV pole stuttered to a halt. “Can you promise me something?”

“Does it involve lying to Carson?”

“No. Can you bring me a muffin for breakfast, an apple crumb one?”

“Are you going to share?” John was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“No, get your own muffin.” 

“Always the gentleman. Remind me, what did Selynda say - ‘manners’?” 

“Sorry. Get four muffins. One for you, Carson, me, and Radek,” Rodney’s smile was tired and filled with hurt. “Is that better?” 

“I’ll go as soon as I tuck you in.” John said as the door slid open. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Rodney said stepping back to John for protection against the approaching storm that was Carson. 

Gently, John pushed Rodney (and the errant IV pole) into the doctor’s waiting concerned tirade before turning tail and rushing from the infirmary. Hell, Atlantis was the city that never slept, right, so he might as well get an early start before the breakfast crowd converged, stole all the muffins and he had to deal with the ire of a pissed off Rodney. 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for Annie. It is because of her gentle prodding and patience that I gave up kicking, screaming and protesting and finally stepped foot into the SGA fandom. She is an amazing person... her friendship, support, understanding (and of course her beta'ing skills ~though all mistakes are mine and mine alone) and love has shortened the distance between us.


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